Drumline
by Moony the Beast
Summary: Southview High School's drumline is up to something highly suspicous. The scandal that will rock the school for generations has just begun.
1. Prologue

One o' clock in the morning; it was pouring rain. Thunder roared overhead as lighting danced through the clouds. In front of Southview High School, one dark figure was visible. This was where everything would begin. The scandal that would rock the foundations of the school for generations was about to commence. And behind it all would be that one lone figure and his group of faithful comrades. The drumline.

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**So, what do you think so far? I want to warn you - the characters that make up the drumline are based on actual people. This is going to be an uber fun story!**


	2. Under the Stage

The storm raged overhead, but Paul barely noticed. He had been standing here in the rain for the past hour, waiting. His jet black hair was plastered to his head. His dark tan and black clothing turned him into a shadow. He was a senior… who had just seen what he had been waiting for.

A flashlight beam flicked on and off once. He smiled grimly and reached up under his shirt, which was also stuck to his tall, not exactly lanky frame. Pulling out a dark pouch, he opened it, pulled out a flashlight of his own and flashed back. He frowned and dropped it back in the bag. Pulling out a thick steel rope with a rather large hook attached to the end, he turned to face the school. The pouch hit the pavement with a splash.

Five minutes later, Paul was on the roof. He sat down and faced the parking lot. He didn't flinch as another dark form launched itself onto the roof, right next to him. The figure broke its fall with a precisely executed roll before standing. Paul stood as well and smiled as Mo whipped off his ski mask. He grinned as Paul held out his hand.

"Did you bring it?"

"Yeah, it's right here. How long have you been waiting?" Mo asked and placed a badly wrapped package into the waiting hand.

"An hour. Is Stephanie coming?"

"She should be up here any minute." They stood silently side by side, Mo noticeably shorter than Paul. A second black form whipped past them, also breaking with a roll before hopping to its feet. The guys didn't turn around as Stephanie gently pulled off her ski mask and shook out her hair.

"Let's go."

They carefully picked their way across the roof, all dripping wet. The rain was falling harder now. Mo swore as Stephanie slipped and carefully helped her up. Paul ignored them. Drumline dating wasn't permitted; it was the most important drumline law, but since Stephanie was a field commander now, he tolerated it. They all stopped when they got to the section of the roof that was most crucial. The skylights over the Commons.

Paul sidestepped countless skylights and stopped at one, right at the corner farthest from where they had started, before bending down. His fingers traced the seams before grabbing on to something. Gesturing to the other two, he began to lift up on it. They rushed over to help, and the glass pyramid over the actual window was laid gently on the roof. Mo made sure the hinges were still intact, before tapping three times on the glass of the skylight. He frowned. Carefully, he stood up, water pooling over the glass, and jumped through it.

Paul squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that the crash wouldn't come. When the only loud noise that followed was the thunder rolling through the clouds he smiled and jumped down himself. He grunted as he hit the floor, rolling just like Mo and Stephanie. He winced as he ran into the leg of a table before carefully standing. They were in!

The Commons was a large room filled halfway with tables and chairs. It served as Southview's cafeteria. On the other half, a sunken pit took up most of the floor, the tiled cougar in the center gleaming as lightning flashed. He flinched for the first time all night at Stephanie's voice calling down frantically.

"Paul, Mo!" She spied Paul looking up at her, squinting as rain splashed him in the face. "Paul, Patrick's here!"

"Patrick? But he said he wasn't coming!"

"Yeah, but I got around it. Watch out!" Another black form dropped through the glass trapdoor that was hanging perilously from the open skylight. It landed on its feet, bending the knees on impact and steadying itself with the hands. Patrick jumped up, unmasked. He grinned and held it up, clutched tightly in his hand. His not-long-not-short light brown hair was damp and ruffled more than usual. He was muscular and took off running down the hall, face set. He wanted to get right to work. Paul snickered at his black clothing marred by perfectly white shoes. Patrick had always been… eccentric.

The flush of a toilet let him know where Mo had disappeared to. Paul turned around and stared down the hallway where band people had their lockers. It was locked off. Next to the hall, the men's bathroom rang with the sound of Mo's footsteps as he hurried out. Stephanie peered down impatiently at them.

"Catch me?"

"Jump."

Paul and Mo caught her as she fell through. Then, Mo leapt up onto the table and pulled himself halfway through the skylight. He grabbed at the pyramid and slammed it over the hole. The rain pounded loudly on it. He fell to the floor and gave Paul a thumbs-up.

"Who all is here?"

"Everyone that matters."

"Even the freshmen?"

"Kaylyn, Mitch, Dillon, Ben and Jeff are all here."

"So John, Goofy, Rothschild, Ryan, Provo, Poodles and Greg came too?"

"Everyone. Except the bells, of course."

"Of course."

They were walking down a hall that led to the theater and the back entrance to the band room. Quickly, they reached the double doors that were usually chained and slowly opened them. Paul held them as Mo and Stephanie slipped inside. He grabbed his flashlight and turned it on as the doors slammed shut behind them.

Rows and rows of chairs met their eyes. They jogged quickly down the isle and came to the short brick wall that kept idiots from falling into the orchestra pit. They followed it until they reached the stairs down into it. They sprinted the length of the pit, ran up the stairs and onto the stage where they promptly stopped. Stephanie's heart pounded in her ears as the guys dropped to their stomachs and slid slowly across the floor. The reached the center and stopped. Paul took out the package that Mo had given him earlier and set it beside him. They pressed their ears against the floor. Then, slowly, they knocked quickly on it five times.

A trapdoor flew open right in front them, clipping Mo on the nose. He winced, but smiled as Poodles' head popped up.

"Hey, they're here!" he called down then disappeared from view. Paul and Mo carefully jumped down, taking care not to leave the package behind. Stephanie laughed out of relief and ran to the hole where she dropped down as well.

Under the stage, it was rather cramped with several supports every few meters. It was a wonder how Poodles had gotten his head above the stage; underneath, it was at least 7 feet from the floor to the stage.

"So, Poodles, how'd you get your head to get out of that hole? You sit on John's shoulders again?" Mo teased. Poodles laughed. He had a fine fuzz of black hair covering his head. He had shaved it during band camp.

"Paul!" Rothschild ran up and smacked Paul a high five. He was even shorter than Poodles, wore glasses, and has extremely curly blond-ish hair.

"I've got it, everybody. I've got it!" Paul cried. The entire drumline fell silent. They were all wearing black. He slowly walked to where they were all clustered and ripped the paper off of the package. He bent down, and everyone scooted back to make room for him in their circle. He placed it on the floor and waited. No one's eyes left the object. They were frozen with anticipation.

Paul smiled as his friends let out a wild cheer. It had worked.

"Get the hammers. It's gonna be a long night."

Patrick set chisels and promptly began to pound them into the cement. Everyone followed his lead, including Paul. It was extremely loud under the stage; none of them noticed, however. They were on drumline for a reason.

Sweat was rolling down Kaylyn's face, but she barely noticed. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, blue-green eyes focused on the chisel she was hammering. She was a freshman, and the only girl on the entire line. When she had joined, she certainly hadn't bargained for this. And when they told her she didn't have to, it would be dangerous, she said that she didn't care. She was on drumline. She had worked hard to get here.

Next to her, Greg was pounding away as well. He was a skinny, tall kid with blonde hair and glasses and was definitely a character. He played bass drum and despite being a sophomore, was second only to John. So when he finally broke through the thick layer of concrete, all most everyone could do was stare in amazement. Kaylyn congratulated him.

"Yay, Greg!"

"Hey Paul, can you see what's down there? Paul?"

Paul didn't answer right away. He just stared.

"Get me a flashlight. _Now._" Everyone scrambled to pull out their flashlight first. Paul grabbed John's. He flicked it on and directed the beam down into the hole. He smiled. Then, standing, he jumped as high as he could under the stage, and slammed his weight down on the rest of the cement covering the hole. He plummeted fast and hit the bottom of the pit with a crash. Swearing, he sat up, eyes closed to avoid the rest of the concrete raining down on top of him. He looked up to see everyone staring down at him.

"…Wow. That was intelligent," John drawled, staring him straight in the eye. Paul grinned. Unless he had told someone, they probably wouldn't have guessed that John was gay. Looking around, he noticed crates. Smiling, he shook off the gray dust that was coating him. He crawled over to the nearest one and tried to pry the lid off.

"Here, Paul, have a crowbar," Ryan snorted, and tossed it down. His aim was terrible and he hit Paul on his right shoulder blade.

"You do know, Claire, that a center snare has to actually be able to play," Mo snickered. Ryan shrugged, and they both jumped down in the pit, followed by Provo. Paul massaged his shoulder, and pried open the crate with the crowbar. He threw the lid aside and reached down, pulling out…

"Light bulbs."

"Are you serious!" yelled Mitch. Paul pulled out one and threw it to Goofy.

"Alex, help the freshman change the light bulb that burned out in the drumline closet," Paul ordered. Mitch gaped.

"No! I'm not changing any light bulbs!" he snapped. John grabbed him by the front of his shirt and nearly hoisted him off the ground.

"Yes… you… are," he snarled, and dropped him on the ground again. Mitch jumped up and flew angrily out of the trapdoor. Goofy and John exchanged high fives.

"Paul… you might want to get over here," Provo called cautiously. Paul scooted over to the crate that the quad players had pried open. Inside, packed extremely tight, were stacks and stacks of money.

"Oh snap," Ryan muttered, holding up a large chunk of bills. They were all twenties. "How much is in here?"

"Um… like 500 dollars."

The rest of the drumline immediately flew down into the pit and began to attack the remaining crates. Dillon and Poodles were lucky enough to grab the crowbar and once successful, began to dance around, tossing money into the air. Jeff ran after them, grabbing all the money that had fallen to the floor. Kaylyn and Greg were busy counting bills, trying to figure out how much had been stored in the crates. Ben and Rothschild ran around giving high fives and chest bumps. Provo finally stood up.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled. Everyone fell silent. Money slowly drifted to the ground. "Dillon, Poodles, quit throwing it around. Kaylyn, Greg, how much have you counted so far?"

"There's 500 dollars in every crate," Greg answered.

"Except for this one," John growled. "More light bulbs."

"So," Paul interrupted, "there are twelve crates. Two have light bulbs, and the other ten have 500 dollars in them."

"Which means we have 5000 dollars altogether," Stephanie finished. A shocked silence followed.

"Wait… How'd all this money get down here anyway?" Rothschild wondered.

"It's on this lid," Mo replied. "It's a note from the tenth Southview drumline… which means it's from fifteen years ago. Basically… they scammed a bunch of people and never got caught. Like ten years worth of scamming. They stopped after the tenth year because they almost got caught. But that's 500 dollars a year!"

John swore. At that moment, Mitch and Goofy dropped down into the pit. Kaylyn jumped, along with several others.

"What'd we miss? The freshman took forever to change the da –"

"Money," blurted Ben. "Lots of money."

"How much?" Mitch asked, suddenly interested.

"5000 dollars," Paul beamed. "And it's definitely going to be of some use this year."

The drumline scandal was about to commence.

* * *

**It's kinda long, but I hope it kept you entertained! And don't worry: my drumline might _think _that they're a bunch of super human ninjas, but in all reality... they're not.**


	3. Rewind

"Hey, Shane, tell me about the drumline," Jen asked her upperclassman friend. Shane turned her dark eyes to meet Jen's green ones. "Please?"

"Well, okay. I mean, you are only a freshman…"

"Hey, what are we talking about?" Bri asked, plopping down at their table. Jen grinned.

"Shane's gonna tell us about the drumline," she smiled. Shane glared and shook her dark brown hair.

"Yeah right. Why don't you just ask your friend Kaylyn? I mean, she's the only girl on the drumline this year, she's a freshman too, and she can tell you a lot more about them than _I_ can."

"And we _totally_ believe that," Bri grumbled sarcastically. "Oh, where is Kaylyn?"

"Extra drumline sectionals."

"What about Mike, Aaron, Katie, Maddy and Allie?"

"Buying ice cream."

"And the other flutes?"

"Over there."

Shane took the opportunity to try and sneak away.

"Hey! Not so fast! I haven't heard all the juicy drumline facts yet!" Jen cried. She smiled and ran a hand through her blonde hair. Bri stuck out her tongue at Shane who reluctantly returned to her seat.

"Fine. Who do you want me to start with?"

Jen thought for a moment. "Paul." Shane grinned mysteriously.

"He's a cutie, isn't he? He's a senior; he's a _huge_ flirt, loves his ladies, and is the center snare, which means he's in charge of the drumline during marching season. Anyway, I love his tan, though he is definitely the largest guy on the line…"

"Yeah, okay. How about… Patrick?" Jen quickly changed the subject. Shane snorted.

"Patrick is like _uber_ weird. Senior, he's pretty eccentric, but I love his body… all he does is pound on that snare of his. He's pretty good I guess… excellent soccer player. Lots of freckles…"

Jen sighed. "Okay, how about that one quad player… the one with the black hair and tan?"

"Mo? Well, his real name's Ryan, but we all call him Mo. And he's also a senior. And he's not available; he's going out with Stephanie, our one field commander. The other one's Bryan. Anyway, he's gonna be in the navy."

"Hmm… how about another quad player… the really white one with the black curly hair?"

"Ryan Claire, junior. He's a stink. He has a really sarcastic personality. You have _no_ idea how many times he's gotten in trouble with Hoffman. Oh, speaking of our _wonderful_ director, what do you think of him?"

"Total jerk," Bri cut in. "They should fire him." Shane laughed.

"Come on, it's only the second day of band camp!"

"You actually _like_ him?!" Jen gaped. Shane laughed even harder.

"No way, honey. So, who's next?"

"The third quad player."

"Tyler Provo! He's pretty nice for a senior. I saw him having that conversation with you yesterday. But he's going out with Bridgette, the first chair clarinet. Don't you love his hair? It's like flat and then super curly. He's pretty white too, now that I think about it…"

"The top bass drum."

"John! Oh man! It's really too bad… he's gay you know. And kind of mean at times, so watch out. Oh, he's a junior."

"Well, I already know Greg so… the drum under him."

"Poodles," Shane sighed. "Mexican."

"What do you have against Mexicans?!" Bri blurted. "Besides, he's really cute. Aside from the fact he just shaved his head…"

"I don't have _anything_ against Mexicans," Shane snapped. "I was just saying. He's really nice. He's a sophomore. And his real name is Eric."

"Um… well, I know Mitch, he's the one with the really curly brown hair, and I know Dillon who has the light brown hair and wears emo pants… so, what about the end drum?"

"Chris. I don't really know a lot about him. He never talks."

"The non-freshman cymbal player."

"Ross. Really weird kid. Junior. I'd stay away from him. He attracts tons of girls but he's really not nice."

"The uber short snare drummer."

"Andrew Rothschild! He's a sophomore. Okay personality. Can be unfriendly at times, and good friends with Paul."

"The last snare."

"Goofy, or Alex. He can be mean. Horrible hair. All black and curly. And he really _does _look like Goofy…"

"Well, I know the bells. There's Becky, Lita, and Emily. So that's pretty much everyone."

"Hey Jen, doesn't Patrick remind you of Matt in like four years?" Bri piped up. Jen's heart sunk. She missed Matt and all her other friends that were going to Northview…

"Yeah. A lot."

"Good," Shane cut in. "That way you'll stay away from the drumline. It doesn't help that you already have made friends with two of them."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Hello! Drumline is like another breed! They're a crafty bunch. You can never tell what they're thinking, but trust me… they're _always_ thinking. And they're surrounded by legends. They have the ability to detect a lie in seconds. They have ridiculously creepy observation skills. They're like a bunch of super-human ninjas! Stay away from them, Jen. You're just going to get yourself in trouble. It's why I didn't want to have this conversation!"

"What can it hurt to be in the league with drumline?"

"Um, well, excuse me, but it can hurt a lot! Haven't you heard about what happened to the _last_ un-percussion person drumline spilled their secrets to?"

"No, tell me!" Jen demanded, curious. She jumped at a voice from behind her.

"That's just a legend, Shane," Ruth, the senior first chair flutist cut in. She squeezed by Jen and plopped into a chair. "By the way, your friends almost have their ice cream," she said to Bri and Jen.

"I still want to hear," Jen pouted. Shane groaned. Ruth's face was perfectly expressionless.

"She died."

Jen and Bri stared at Ruth. Shane looked slightly relieved. "That's okay, I mean, everyone dies," Bri shrugged, pulling out a bag of pretzels from her pocket. She popped it open loudly. Shane looked scandalized.

"You don't get it! She didn't just _die_! She killed herself!" she cried. Ruth rolled her eyes.

"That's not proven, you know."

"Well duh. The drumline would be murdered if people found out the truth," Shane grumbled. "She couldn't take it anymore. So, one night, she got super drunk then drove off down to a busy road where she hit some guy head on. He lived without a scratch, but she was instantly killed."

"Well, that's what happens when you're drunk," Ruth sighed. "You're an idiot."

"But Michael was arguing with her not to go, and she told him, perfectly sanely, that she wanted to die because of everything that he had told her. The only purpose of getting drunk was to keep the pain from affecting her. She told him that too."

"Who's Michael?" Bri wondered.

"The best percussionist to step foot in our school," Ruth smiled. "He's somewhat of a legend and idol to all drumlines that follow him. He was in the seventh class to graduate from here. And the girl, Emmy, was his girlfriend. She wanted to know what was up with the drumline. We'll never know. They swear each other to secrecy. They're never going to tell anyone other than select drumline members. And Emmy is dead. She's the only one that really would have had the chance to tell us…"

"So it _is_ true!" Jen asked excitedly. Ruth frowned.

"I believe it. But it's dangerous for you, a freshman to be forming such thoughts."

"Wait, what do you mean by _select _drumline members?" Bri interrupted. She finished the pretzels, threw the bag at the garbage and missed. Ruth creased her eyebrows.

"They can choose if they want to be 'super-human ninjas' or not," she answered. "And I'm not telling you how I know."

"Well, I wanna find out," Jen proclaimed proudly. Shane went deathly pale, Ruth raised an eyebrow, a note of panic in her eyes, and Bri let out a cheer.

"Yeah Jen! You are totally gonna blow them away!" she laughed. Shane opened her mouth but nothing came out. Ruth sighed, depressed.

"Well, be careful. And don't stop playing flute."

"I'll be extremely careful. And there's no way that I'm going to give up flute and piccolo!"

"BAND! Back outside, the break's over!" Bryan, the second field commander yelled. Jen turned around to see her friends, halfway to the table, begin to stuff their mouths with ice cream. She smiled and stood up. It was time to start her mission.

* * *

**Oo, it's getting exciting. Only the drumline is based off of real people! Well, the director is based off of mine... ****He's evil.**


	4. Mud Fights and Breakins

**A/N:** **wow, sorry it's been a while. it's Christmas break now, so hopefully i'll make lots of progress ;P**

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Jen thought she was about to go crazy. In her dreams, she chased different members of the drumline, always finding odd secrets that were, in real life, totally unrealistic. In reality, she had been watching the drumline for a month. It was September and she already knew about five secret passages through the school. She had figured out the trapdoor in the stage. She had also discovered that John was gay, Poodles had a fedora, and Rothschild was Jewish. But that didn't really have to do with anything.

She overheard that they were meeting in a week, at one in the morning. She smiled, excited. That would be her chance. She was walking with Kaylyn out to the football field when an idea struck her.

"Hey, can you introduce me to the drumline?" she asked hopefully. Kaylyn laughed.

"Absolutely! But… they probably won't care," she warned. Jen grinned.

"That's okay." They walked to the back and dropped Kaylyn's drum and Jen's piccolo at the sideline, the only area that wasn't made up of mud. Then smiling, they walked over to the rest of the drumline.

"HEY!" Kaylyn yelled. The fooling around, joking, beating each other up – it all stopped. They stared, annoyed at their girl. "This is Jen! She wanted to meet all of you!"

Paul waved, smiled and said hi. Patrick bowed, grinning roguishly. Goofy glared at her. Andrew waved quickly before turning back to punching Paul. Provo said hi politely. Mo waved before jumping on Provo's back. Ryan Claire stared at her. Then, he whipped the Frisbee he had been holding across the field. Patrick sprung up and tore off after it. John walked up to her and stared her down.

"Freshman. Give me an M&M," he growled.

Jen jumped. She had a pack in her back pocket. Wondering how long it had taken him to become that sharp, she pulled it out, ripped it open and poured the whole thing into his waiting hands. He tossed them into his mouth.

"Thanks," he walked off, yelling over his shoulder. Poodles grinned and waved. Mitch ignored her, Dillon following. Greg smiled and walked over.

"Hi Jenifer Aniston!" he pointedly greeted her. She sighed.

"Anderson. And don't call me Jenifer." Greg just smiled. Ross followed Greg over and stared at her for a few seconds before leaving. Jeff waved and Ben said nothing. Chris didn't even look at her. Jen shrugged. They would all know her soon enough.

Paul called the drumline to the middle of the field after Jen had run off with Bri and Maddy. He needed to talk with them.

"Alright, the meeting is under the stage, remember. We won't be doing anything. Just discussing prank number one, and what to do with all the…paper. And Patrick, cut it out!"

Patrick had been throwing the Frisbee into the air and catching repeatedly.

"Also, Kaylyn, no more introducing friends to the drumline. That Jen… she's planning something."

"Sorry… I didn't pick up on anything," she apologized.

"Of course you didn't," Ryan said bluntly. "Freshman."

"Well, it's not anything bad," Poodles cut in. "But you should still be careful." He spied Hoffman stepping up to his platform. "Crap."

"Let's go," John grumbled, and they retreated to their drums. A sharp whistle sliced through the air. The entire band winced.

"_HELLO! GET IN YOUR POSITIONS TO PIRATES! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! QUIT FOOLING AROUND! THIS IS BAND CLASS!_"

Jen had just grabbed her piccolo as Hoffman was about to step up on his platform. She sprinted to her squad. Bri was talking with Kim, who played clarinet. Their squad leader Chelsea was also a piccolo player. She was talking with Bridgette from the squad next to them.

With Hoffman screaming in their ears, Squad 18 flew to their place. Panting and panicking, the four of them watched the rest of the band, some sprinting, some taking their time.

"_HURRY UP!_" Hoffman was exploding. Jen wasn't smiling. If anyone could ruin a day, it was Hoffman. However, most of the upperclassmen were going as slow as they possibly could to their spots. Bri laughed.

"Next time, I'm totally doing that," she whispered. Jen laughed. It was so like Bri. Kim jumped up next to them.

"Hey guys… what's up?"

"Well, not much… if you haven't noticed, we're being screamed at right now."

"Aww, just ignore him," Andy, Kim's brother and Southview's only guy flutist, joined their conversation. He was a junior and it had been obvious from the start that the two didn't get along. "He's not that bad if you tune him out. He just overreacts."

"I don't know, he's kind of scary," Kim mumbled, glancing at Hoffman.

"Aww, be quiet, Kim. You're a disgrace to this family."

"What family?"

"_Our_ family! You're also a disgrace to this band! If you're not careful, you'll get voted lost sheep!"

"Ooo, lost sheep! I want to be the lost sheep! Hey everyone, VOTE KIM FOR LOST SHEEP!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Andy yelped. "Come on Kim! Don't do that! You're an embarrassment!"

"But I want to be lost sheep," she pouted.

"Hey, Andy," Bri snickered. "If she's such an embarrassment, go back to your own squad," she grinned, and poked him. He doubled up laughing.

"But I won't be able to escape her… my squad is positioned right next to yours."

"Oh… yeah. Well, go bother your squadlings instead of us," she demanded. "Not that we don't love you…"

"Oh shut up, you brown-noser," Jen giggled. Bri pushed her, and Andy ran away. Chelsea laughed as Kim joined the fight. Bri's foot caught in the muck that made up the practice field. She waved her arms frantically and fell onto her knees… and into the mud. She screamed. Jen laughed, and before she knew it, slop was flying everywhere. The main source was Bri's feet which flung it every which way as she pulled them out of the goo. Chelsea and Kim squealed, and Jen was barely aware that someone was behind her.

She gasped as a huge glob of mud smacked into the back of her head. She wheeled around to see Patrick sprinting away, throwing mud at others as well. She frowned, bent down, scooped up a handful and hurled it with all her might. It slammed into Paul's back, leaving a huge dark splotch on his white tee-shirt.

Paul was _trying_ to have a sensible conversation with Provo when he was hit extremely hard in the back. He stumbled, wheeled around and spied Patrick dodging through the band tossing mud onto people. He growled, bent down, scooped some muck up, and flung it through the air. It missed and collided with Katie, the mellophone player who would beat you up before you could say "go." She was a junior, and despite Paul's seniority, he didn't doubt for a minute that she would take him out. Provo gaped as Paul swore. He laughed loudly.

"Come on, you're about 100 pounds bigger than she is, there's no way-"

"_PATRICK!_" came the scream. They turned quickly to see Katie's red hair streaking after they're friend. Without thinking twice, they took off after them. Provo grabbed a glob of mud and managed to hit her in the neck. She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned around, fuming. The other mellophone players were rolling around in the dirt themselves from laughter. Eventually, they found their way to Katie's side, ready to fight it out.

"This is one ghey parade they won't forget," Alex snickered. Paul and Provo were already fleeing across the field. Patrick joined them, and they frantically called for the rest of the drumline to help. Unfortunately, no one seemed to care.

Katie was the first person to let the mud fly. She grimaced as it hit a saxophonist. The rest of the mellophones charged, throwing muck everywhere. Everyone _but_ Paul, Provo and Patrick was being hit, and before anyone could turn around, a full-fledged mud-war, consisting of the entire band, ensued. They were vaguely aware of Hoffman screaming in their ears.

* * *

"Well, aside from the fact that we don't get third quarter off for the next two games, _that was awesome_!" Kaylyn squealed as she picked her way across the roof that night. Stephanie laughed in agreement.

"I've never seen him so angry. I'm just glad that I had a chance to throw some slop at Brian before he stopped it." Kaylyn laughed with her and together they pried open the skylight.

Jen watched from the trees across the parking lot. She figured that the farther away she was, the safer. She had a huge pair of binoculars that allowed her to identify everyone from about two hundred yards away. Kaylyn and Stephanie were the last one up on the roof, Stephanie jumping, and Kaylyn using Paul's cable. They disappeared as they walked back to the entrance. Jen counted to twenty then stood. She had made a list of everyone, and determined that Kaylyn and Stephanie were the last ones.

Climbing the cable was strenuous, but she made it to the top. Crawling along the roof, she guessed the direction that everyone had disappeared into. After five minutes, she found the skylights. Cautiously, Jen stood up and inspected one. The farthest one was different. The pyramid was covering it, but there was no second layer of glass. Jen bent down and examined the base of the pyramid. She grinned when she found hinges. With an enormous effort, she lifted it up, and very carefully jumped down onto the floor of the Commons.

Jen stopped to catch her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest. What if they killed her or locked her away in a secret closet because she found them out? What if her entire high school career was doomed to be haunted by the drumline because of this? She was sure Kaylyn and Greg might try to save her, but no one else would care.

Slowly, she walked down the hall that led to the theater. Silently, she opened the doors and slipped in. she crawled down the isle, around the orchestra pit, up the stairs, and onto the stage. She shifted to her stomach. Voices.

In the middle of the stage was an open trap door. She could hear them! Slowly she pushed herself along the stage to the open door. Very carefully, she flipped her legs over the opening and dropped in.

Slowly she stood up. The entire drumline stared, part in amazement, part in horror at her. Jen crossed her arms, and shook her hair out of her face.

"NO!" John yelled. Paul grabbed his shirt to keep him from attacking her. She was thrown off balance as Mo slammed into her from behind. She somersaulted away from him, and into Poodles, who stared at her as she sat up and was wrestled back down again by Stephanie and Mo. Patrick stared at her, and caught her eye. Jen's green eyes bored angrily into his brown ones. He looked back, totally unperturbed. Then, he winked and looked to Paul. Jen shifted to Greg and Kaylyn. Kaylyn's jaw hung open, and Greg looked like he might burst out laughing any second. Heads popped up from a hole in front of her, but her face was shoved against the concrete. A pair of feet entered her line of vision.

"How on _earth_ did you get down here?" The voice was eerily calm… yet deadly.

* * *

**A/N: yup! a cliffy! bwahaha! i might try to fit in a character based off of me... i don't know yet.**


	5. The Vote

Jen fought against Mo and Stephanie as the voice belonging to the pair of legs right in front of her asked the question. From the voice, she decided it was Ryan Claire.

"How did you get down here?!" he spat, angry that she wasn't answering. John wrenched free of Paul.

"It was her!" he screamed wildly, pointing at Kaylyn, who looked so shocked that she could faint. "She's her friend! She betrayed us!"

"_NO!_" Jen shouted, her voice sounding slightly muffled due to being shoved against the floor. "I found you out myself!"

Once again the silence ensued. Mitch snickered, and Dillon punched him. John was still glowering at Kaylyn, who looked somewhat relieved. Ryan recovered from the shock first.

"So you've been…watching us? Listening to us? Following us? For how long? Why?"

"I… I don't know why," she mumbled, and Mo hauled her to her feet so everyone could hear. "I was so intrigued by you guys. You… you're amazing!"

"Thanks," several people cut in, some sarcastic and some not.

"So I decided to constantly observe. To train and hone myself into… well, a member of the drumline." Jen stopped. She sounded like an idiot. "I mean- "

"We're not voting you in," Andrew Rothschild interjected. "There's no way."

"Do we even have a choice?" Paul cut in. "She found us out. We have to, just to protect ourselves!"

"Don't you remember Emmy?!" Andrew was hysterical.

"How can we not let her join?" Provo whispered. Everyone was silent. Ryan Claire stared at her.

"Start talking."

"I could never end my own life. And, there's _no_ way I would ever betray you guys. I do have two friends on this line whether you like it or not. And you really have no choice. I mean… I kind of found you out…"

"Alright," Paul sighed quietly. "Shut your eyes, now. All in favor raise your right hand." Jen watched as more than half of them raised their hands. Paul, Kaylyn, Greg, Provo, Poodles, Jeff, Ben, Patrick, even Dillon. A few people looked quite unsure. Paul sighed. "All right. She's in."

Jen was promptly dropped on the floor, and she jumped up as Kaylyn raced over to hug her. The embrace threw her off balance, into Greg who had walked up behind her. He tried to catch her, failed, and fell on his behind as Mo grabbed the two girls. They laughed it off, and as Jen looked around, she frowned.

"Where are Ross and Chris?"

John laughed. "Surely you noticed that they aren't part of this band of rebels," he sneered. Paul glared, and Provo punched him.

"Watch it," Provo muttered. Patrick had retreated to the corner and was reading a chess book. Ryan Claire grumbled something, then called for order. Everyone reluctantly turned to face him. Paul took over.

"Alright, as you all know, we have been blessed with extra funds this year, and I have decided on our first prank this year! Of course, we will vote. But I am particularly excited about this one!"

"When?" Ben asked.

"Halloween."

A collective "ooooh" arose from the drumline, and they all seemed to become quite excited. Jen found it odd that they continued as if nothing had happened just minutes earlier.

"So, what I'm planning on doing is totally turning the school into a horror house. Fake blood smeared all over, dead 'bodies,' crime scene tape, stuffed lockers, the ultimate place of death and despair!" Everyone's hand immediately shot into the air, including Jen's. She loved pulling pranks. "Awesome!" Paul grinned, and rubbed his hands together. So, I'm thinking of using paint as blood. Of course, it'll have to be water soluble. So, who wants to be in charge of finding the right shade of blood?"

Kaylyn could have sworn she heard crickets chirping as no one moved. Paul sighed. "Jen's doing it."

"What?!"

"Hey, you're good with art, so you're in charge of the blood!"

Leave it to the drumline to discover she loved to paint.

"I'm thinking we'll need a good twenty gallons. So, we'll get over to Wal-Mart and find the perfect combination. I've got to pay for it. Also, we'll need brushes. And no spray paint, it's not realistic enough.

"Okay, now we need some bodies. Any ideas?"

"Well," Poodles started, "we could have a bunch of dismembered limbs strewn all over and stuff… but otherwise, I'd say just stuff clothes with foam or newspaper and coat 'em in blood. Oh, and make a bunch of knives sticking out of them. And, we should hang some from the ceiling in the commons! Oh, and we need lots of spider webs and fog! And-!"

"Alright!" Paul yelled. "Thank you. Everybody find as many newspapers as you can. We'll buy a fog machine and some fake knives. Bring in clothes too. Anything you can find. I'm pretty sure I can buy mannequins somewhere for arms and legs…"

_This is getting _really_ weird_, Jen thought as the discussion continued. But she couldn't contain her excitement. This was going to be the best Halloween ever!

As they filed out of the meeting, Paul grabbed Jen by the elbow. They stayed under the stage until everyone else had left. He waited, making sure no one was listening down on them.

"Alright. Jen… be careful."

"I know! Everyone's been telling me that since the moment I got down here!"

"No. There are people out there who would do anything to get information. I know we're just a drumline, but we've broken so many rules and laws doing what we do. If they found out…"

"Who?"

"Northview."

The enemies. Northview and Southview had been at odds since the day they were built.

"That seems a little over the top, Paul."

"It's not, trust me. Want to know the real reason Emmy died? It wasn't stress. It was Northview's drumline."

"What?!"

"They got her, Jen. That's why she got drunk. She couldn't risk them finding anything out. She wanted to kill herself to keep information from them, and went driving one night."

"How do you know?"

"She hit Michael's car."

"_No!_"

"Please, please, please be careful Jen! I'd hate for something to happen to you."

"I thought you didn't care," she grumbled.

"Hey, don't ever think that. We're in band together, we're a family."

"…I never thought of it that way… And Paul… remember that I got myself into this. It's not anyone's fault but mine."

He stared at her quietly. "Okay. Jen…"

"Yeah?"

"Say 'hi' to your friend Shane for me, okay?"

"Shane, the junior Shane? Who plays saxophone Shane?"

"Yeah." Jen noticed he was blushing. She smiled.

"See ya, Paul."

"Yeah. See ya."

* * *

**A/N: sorry it's been so long! there's more exciting times to come, don't worry.**


	6. Auditions and Competitions

**A/N:** sorry it's so long!

* * *

Concert band auditions were here. Even though it was only October, Hoffman was eager to start. Symphonic band, Southview's top concert band, would be going to Cincinnati in February. Concert band, the lower band, was not invited along.

Jen dug through piles of music on the table, trying to find the flute piece. People were reaching over and around each other, desperate to get the pieces as soon as possible, as if fifteen more minutes of possessing audition music would affect the outcome. She was elbowed in the ribs and started coughing violently. Stephanie, watching the whole affair, looked worriedly in her direction. Jen shook her head. She didn't need help… apparently John thought differently. Or maybe he just liked hitting people.

"OW!" She yelled, and started coughing again. John was busy pounding her back into a sorry pulp. She backed out of the mess, and some trumpets eagerly filled in her spot. "Would you stop?!"

John grumbled something and shoved a few freshmen viciously out of his way as he approached the table. Jen watched him, hoping she hadn't hurt his feelings. When he reemerged, he held the entire pile of flute music in his hand. "Here. Sorry about that." Jen silently took the music from him. Andy appeared at her shoulder.

"Thanks!" he grinned, taking a piece and walking off.

The drumline had warmed somewhat to her. A few of them, mainly Andrew, were still a little apprehensive. Paul seemed to think it was just because there were now two girls on the line, as if one wasn't bad enough...

There was much more to being on the drumline than what she had thought. Once a week, Mo and Stephanie held karate classes in the commons in the dead of night. The drummers, Jen included, were expected to show up to at least two times a month. She learned quickly enough, but each time, she came home aching all over. She had also been issued a standard pair of sticks. Standard, as in previously used and about to fall apart. They were old left-over snare sticks from who knew how long ago. Poodles told her that since she had no idea about anything when it came to percussion, they had saved her a very confusing and stressful trip to the store.

"REMEMBER! NORTHVIEW-SOUTHVIEW FOOTBALL GAME TONIGHT! BE HERE AT 5:30!" Hoffman was screaming through his megaphone. Jen winced, dropped the flute music on Ruth's shelf, and ran out of the band room as the bell rang. Shane, Mike and Katie caught up with her as she fled to her next class.

"Any word from Paul?" Shane asked eagerly. Jen sighed grumpily. The two were always clamoring to know about each other, and she hated being the middle man. Katie giggled.

"Shane's in _like_!"

"_What_?!" Shane yelped, stopping dead in her tracks and causing Mike to run into her.

"Well, you can't call it love yet, it's just a crush, so it must be like," Katie reasoned. Mike burst out laughing and gave her a quick high-five. Shane looked slightly peeved. Katie grinned and changed the topic quickly.

"Aren't you excited for the game tonight, Jen?"

"Oh yeah! I can't wait. Except for the whole marching thing."

"Wow," Mike laughed. Shane, still looking upset, waved and drifted off to her class. "That's kind of the whole point to _marching_ band. And I can't see why you guys are so pumped. I don't know _anyone_ from Northview…"

"Sucks for you," Jen grumbled, suddenly in a bad mood. She stopped in front of her French class and waved. "Au revoir, mes amis," she called half-heartedly. Mike smiled at her apologetically as she turned and took her seat.

* * *

Fingers fumbling, Jen attempted to button and zip her uniform jacket. She was shaking despite the ninety-degree heat that was so unlike October. Her hair was up and tucked neatly under her uniform cap. The practice earlier had been grueling, not to mention disgusting. The band had an annoyed air about it. They had wanted to come decked out with beads, spirit wear, face paint, and all the rest of the trimmings. This was easily the biggest game of the season for them, and they were determined to win.

Next to her, Bri was feeling the same way. Her heart pounded in her chest, partly from heat and partly from excitement. She hadn't put her cap on yet, and was trying to delay it for as long as possible. She was sweating already in the "air conditioned" band room that had to be as hot as outside. Katie and Allie were on Jen's other side and were flushed with heat. Shane was talking to her other junior friends, apparently not fazed by the weather. Bri grumbled something along the lines of "I thought this was Ohio" as the band made its way to the buses.

"I can't believe we have to do pregame," Allie groaned. Aaron and Mike popped their heads over the seat to talk. "It's so _hot_." Aaron grinned.

"Yet full of opportunities to show up Northview," he smirked. Allie sighed, and Katie dropped her head into her hands. Jen, sitting across the isle, glanced at them, Bri peering around her.

"Stupid trombone player," Allie grumbled. Mike laughed and was promptly punched. He fell out into the isle and was yelled at by the bus driver. He scrambled back up, and the whole group was laughing.

"Stupid tuba player," Aaron snickered. Jen shook, her head, still smiling.

"Stupid freshmen," she grinned.

"Hey, we're here!" Alex the mellophone player screamed, and everyone crowded to the windows. They had pulled into the back parking lot at the stadium. Southview, being newer than Northview, still lacked a stadium of its own. They were forced to use their rival's field each home game. The large grassy area around the actual stadium was crawling with people. They were all over, most standing in line for tickets.

"Oh crap," Bri groaned. "We have to _march_ through that!"

"Poor drumline…" Jen muttered. _Oh well, all the more car alarms to set off_, she thought.

* * *

Bri had been looking for the entire game. The whole march in, the whole pregame, the whole time in the stands, she had been watching for Matt. It had been over six months since they had seen each other. Sure they had talked… but that wasn't the same as actually _seeing_ someone. So, as third quarter neared, Bri thought she would faint with anticipation. Jen had been watching her, worried. Maybe she thought it was the heat. The heat didn't bother her though. Just him.

As the band filed off the field from halftime, everyone was clamoring about how they had bested Northview in marching and football. Southview was leading by two touchdowns. Now they had third quarter off. Bri rushed up to the bleachers and ripped off her uniform jacket with everyone else. She gently laid her piccolo on top of it and raced down to the concession stand.

Jen watched her go. "Kaylyn, let's go walking. Bri's on a mission. It's too hot to chase her around."

"Alright, that sounds fun!"

As Jen and Kaylyn descended from the bleachers, Bri fought through the crowd. She felt ridiculous in her band pants, complete with suspenders. _He'll probably just laugh_, she thought, and smiled. She snatched up her free water from the tub and set off again.

After searching for five minutes, Bri stopped and took a break. She cracked open her water and drank deeply. As she closed the bottle, he was walking by. Like magic he turned around and spotted her. Her heart melted as his face broke into a smile.

"Hey Matt!" she yelled, and trotted towards him. He waved and came to meet her.

"Hey Bri! You look good, considering the fact that you're sweating like crazy." He winked. She blushed, doubting anyone could see it when her face was already flushed.

"Well, I just thought I'd say 'hi.' You're kind of far behind your friends…"

"That's fine. I like talking with you."

"Oh… so… how's hockey?"

"Great! We're undefeated!"

"Too bad you go to Northview…"

He laughed. "Too bad you go to Southview."

Jen and Kaylyn drifted along, occasionally waving at people they knew, always looking out for friends. As they stopped to talk with someone, Kaylyn noticed out of the corner of her eye that they were being trailed. She panicked silently as she realized that the "stalkers" were two members of the Northview drumline.

"Jen, I'm going to call Paul," she whispered, and gestured with her eyes towards the two guys.

"Oh crap. Make it quick." Kaylyn frantically dialed Paul's number, hoping that he wasn't in the middle of something.

Paul was busy watching Shane from a distance while waiting to get food from the concession stand. His stomach had been rumbling loudly through the entire game. As his cell phone began to explosively vibrate in his pocket, Shane glanced his way and met his eyes shyly. He swore, grinned at her, then dug through his uniform to find the phone.

"Paul here."

"Paul, it's Kaylyn."

"What do you want, freshman?"

"Jen and I are being trailed."

Paul swore again. "I'll get the guys." He ended the call and punched in the combination of buttons that alerted everyone else.

Poodles choked on his Pepsi as his phone began to ring. He flipped it open and saw the caller. "Mitch!" he yelled. "We've gotta get out of here!" Mitch happened to be in the middle of an Ultimate Frisbee game and his team was currently winning.

"Hang on, let us win first!" he yelled back. Poodles sighed and dropped his Pepsi in a trash can.

"Never mind, I'll go without you," he grumbled. He ran to the meeting place, Greg sprinting up next to him. Paul, Provo, Mo and Patrick were already there, and Ryan, John, Jeff, Goofy, Andrew and Dillon were just arriving as well.

"Where are Ben and Mitch?"

"Mitch is playing Frisbee."

"Ben is flirting."

Paul sighed. "Alright, follow me. They're not crucial this time."

Kaylyn and Jen were beginning to worry as the minutes ticked by slowly. Their friends had left to talk with someone else, and they were all alone… sort of. People were surging by in huge numbers. Jen couldn't remember seeing so many people at one high school football game before. The two drummers approached, and the girls felt themselves go rigid with fear.

"We have to stay calm," Kaylyn whimpered. "or we'll be overpowered." The guys had fake smiles plastered on their faces as they neared.

"Hello, ladies. You don't happen to be on Southview's drumline, do you?" one asked innocently. Jen detected a sneer.

"Actually, we do," she replied coldly, and smiled icily at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"How wonderful! Do you know where Paul is? He and I happen to be old friends, and I'd like to speak with him."

"Turn around," Kaylyn smiled sweetly. They did so, only to find themselves completely surrounded. Paul crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

"Care to step away from our girls?" he asked calmly. His face shone with a challenge. The faces of the two Northview drummers turned ugly.

"Paul, how nice to see you!" The one who had spoken to Jen and Kaylyn sneered in the center's face.

"Wish we could say the same thing," Mo growled, and cracked his knuckles.

"Get out of here," Paul snapped. The two shoved past him and glared back as they stalked off. Patrick placed a hand on Jen's shoulder and the other on Kaylyn's.

"I hope you two are okay."

"I'm fine, just shaky," Kaylyn mumbled. Greg hugged her.

"And you?" Patrick turned to Jen.

"I'll live," she whispered, and he patted her head before leaving.

That night Southview won against their rival, twenty-eight to fourteen, and Jen and Patrick became good friends.

* * *

Audition day arrived. Jen and Aaron nervously waited their turns. Jen's stomach rumbled. She was missing part of her lunch for this. Hoffman appeared in the doorway and called Aaron back to a practice room. Jen sat, fidgeting, barely able to contain her nerves. It felt like an hour later when Aaron reemerged, looking frazzled.

Hoffman appeared at the doorway to the band room. "Jen Anderson?"

"I'm coming," she called and hurried to follow him into a practice room. Her legs turned to jelly as she stood in before a music stand and waited. He smiled at her and asked her to begin with scales. She shakily placed the flute to her mouth and blew.


	7. The Plans Revealed

**A/N: This is where the scandal is revealed! Have fun!**

* * *

"_Kaylyn, I made symphonic band_!" Jen screamed, and Kaylyn screamed with her, the two of them jumping up and down. Bri was still trying to find her name.

"Kaylyn, you got in with me," Greg called, studying the results. Bri screamed happily.

"I'm in!"

"Yay! Come dance with us!" Jen laughed. Bri joined, twirling around happily. Ben and Dillon looked slightly disappointed as they found their names. Poodles, however was grinning hugely.

"Alright, we got into concert band guys! No putting up with Hoffman this year!"

Katie and Maddy looked upset as they checked their results. "Well, you're right Poodles. The one advantage of being in concert band is having Mrs. Riffle instead," Maddy sighed. The assistant band director was well liked, as opposed to Mr. Hoffman, who was rarely tolerable.

The doors banged open, and Tia, a clarinet player, made her dramatic entrance.

Tia had been quickly befriended by Jen, Allie, Maddy, Katie, Bri, and Kaylyn. She was silly and loved to talk about flying monkeys. When they had introduced her to Greg, the two took to each other right away. They never went anywhere without each other, and were always joking around.

"Who's Gabrielle?" Greg asked loudly. Several people turned to stare at him. Bri flushed bright red, and Jen began to laugh.

"You didn't tell us that they put your _full_ name on there!" she giggled. Bri glared at her, and Tia smiled.

"It's a lovely name! Are you French?"

"Yes. My grandparents came over from France. They taught me how to speak French… I like German better."

"Not to change the subject…" Kaylyn interjected, "… but what band did you get into, Tia?"

Greg grinned broadly. "Tia got into concert, she's first chair."

"YEA! I got into the slacker's band!" she danced around. "Our first day with concert bands is Thursday, you know. We get music!"

Kaylyn, Jen, Bri, and Greg groaned. Katie grinned. "Have fun with Mr. Hoffman!" she smirked. Jen stuck out her tongue.

"Time to march!" Greg yelled, and ran to get his drum. Kaylyn shook her head.

"Too much energy," she muttered. "The bell hasn't even rung yet."

"Out of the way!" someone called. Patrick and Paul were shoving through the crowd to find their placements. As they reached the results, Patrick grabbed Jen by the arm and pulled her next to him. "You got in symphonic band, Jenny. And you're not last chair."

Jen smiled. Patrick was the only person who called her Jenny. "I saw. Kaylyn and I were dancing!"

"Well, we knew we would get in," Paul grinned, and he gave Patrick a large, painful sounding high-five. "You two have too much energy. Go march it off."

Jen smiled. "Okay!" She went to skip off, only to find that Patrick was still holding on to her arm. He turned slightly pinker and let go.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and trotted off. Paul grinned.

"Patrick's been having trouble focusing lately. Maybe it's because Homecoming is in two weeks…?"

"Hey, don't look at me," Jen grumbled. "You should ask Shane. She always spies on you." Paul turned bright red.

"Freshman," he muttered, and followed after Patrick. Jen made a face at his back, and turned around, running into Aaron.

"Sorry!"

"No problem. Did you see what band I got into?" he asked.

"Ah, no. And even if I did, I wouldn't want to spoil it for you."

He made a face as she walked into the band room. "Thanks."

* * *

Jen, Bri, Kim, and Chelsea were thoroughly bored with marching. "Hey Pachuco" was a great song, with an awesome drum part, but it was hot out, and Hoffman was being his usual self. The drumline was sitting on the sidelines, fighting with each other. All of them – with the exception of Kaylyn – had taken off there shirts. Jen laughed as Andrew was whipped with Ryan's shirt, thrown by Ben.

"BACK TO THE STARTING POSITIONS!!" Hoffman roared suddenly. The squad jumped with surprise, and hurried to their spot. As they took their positions, Dave Marks, a senior trumpet player (and according to Kaylyn quite the flirt), yelled to the band.

"When we're supposed to yell 'Hey, pachuco', yell 'Hey, T. Hoffman' instead!" The grin on his face mischievous to the extreme.

The field commanders blew the tempo on their whistles, and the drum intro began. Kim and Bri danced around while making sure no one important saw them. They stopped just in time to march. And, as Marks had suggested, the entire band shouted "Hey, T. Hoffman!"

"_BACK TO THE START_!!" he screamed. Jen groaned in synch with the rest of the band. Good going, Dave.

* * *

Thursday came way too quickly for Jen's liking. Still, she packed up her flute in her backpack, and tried not to worry. In geometry class, she found that she wasn't the only one freaking out.

"Oh man, I do NOT want to go to band today," Greg groaned as Jen plopped in behind him. Kaylyn winced.

"What if he gives me super-hard parts that I can't play and then yells at me? Then the drumline will hate me forever and I'll never make snare again! Oh my gosh! And Jen, you have to sit _right in front of him_, but at least you have Ruth so he won't yell at the flutes because he loves her."

"Kaylyn! Calm down!" Jen laughed. "I'm worried to, but he knows that you're a freshman. Chill."

"He's still going to yell at the flutes. It will just be everyone but Ruth," Natalie, a sophomore cut in. She sat next to Jen and behind Kaylyn; she played flute as well. Jen sighed. Greg curled up in a ball and rocked back and forth.

"Hey Greg, calm down! It's only first period; sixth is still a long time away," Brian, a freshman trumpet player joined the conversation.

"Did you make it in?" Natalie asked him.

"Yea," he replied, grimacing. "I'm the only freshman trumpet, and I have to sit next to Dave Marks. I'm last chair and he's second-to-last." Jen laughed.

"Have fun," she grinned. The bell rang, and they raced off to their next classes.

At lunch Jen could not eat. She tried to, but could only stomach her sandwich. She left the rest in the bag and took it back to her locker. Together, she and Bri walked to the band room. When the bell rang, Kaylyn walked in, and the three of them made their way to the stage.

* * *

"Well, that wasn't _too_ bad," Bri sighed as they were leaving school. Jen nodded. "All we did was listen to music, and get music. Only now I will have to practice…" she muttered. Katie, Maddy and Allie had enjoyed the first day of concert band. Jen was happy for them. She and Bri, however, had a sectional with Hoffman in one week.

The walk home with Bri, Allie, Maddy, and Katie was relaxing. She thought of the Halloween prank the drumline was planning and smiled. She and Paul had gone to the paint store over the weekend. They picked out the bloodiest color they could find. Laughing loudly, they had marched up to the counter.

"Hi! How can I help you?"

"We need this color paint, please," Paul smiled charmingly at the girl behind the counter. "Make sure it's water soluble, too." The girl had hurried back to mix the paints. She was back several minutes later, holding a can of paint without a lid.

"Is the color you want?" she asked, eyeing Paul blushingly. Jen had examined the color. It was too red for her liking. She glanced at Paul, who just stared back at her.

"It needs to look more like half-dried blood," Jen had told the girl, who blanched and nearly dropped the can of paint. They had laughed uproariously when she went back to fix it. They checked it a second time, and paid for it. They had laughed the whole way home.

* * *

Thursday. Afterschool sectional with Hoffman. Jen threw open the doors, biting her lip viciously. The tears were creeping into her eyes. She had practiced for hours, only to fall apart in front of the director. She almost ran out of the school, trying not to break apart. How could he be so heartless? How could he yell at people like that? Why couldn't he understand people? _Why hadn't anyone _done_ something about him yet_?!

She crashed into Provo. He caught her before she fell, helping her stand back up. "Oh Provo, I'm so sorry!" she cried, and burst into tears. He stared at her, unsure.

"Do you need to come under the stage? All of the seniors are there." Jen nodded, trying to stop her tears. Provo gently led her through the theater to the trapdoor. He was careful, making sure no one saw them. Jen was blinded by her tears, and as much as she tried to stop them, they just kept coming. She clumsily jumped through the trapdoor, thankful that Mo, Paul, Patrick, and Stephanie were there to catch her.

"Jenny, what happened?" Patrick asked, keeping his distance. Stephanie hugged Jen tightly.

"There were afterschool sectionals with Hoffman today," she snapped, wiping Jen's tears. They all fell silent.

"He gets worse every year," Paul whispered. "Even with drum sectionals this year for marching band; he was brutal."

"Maybe we should do something," Mo suggested darkly. Provo nodded silently. "I mean, we've put up with him for _four_ years. He's just going to get worse. Now he's gone so far as to hurt one of the members of our drumline. I say we get rid of him."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Hopefully we're not killing anyone."

"No!" Mo hissed. "We're getting him _fired_!"

"It will be easier to confront him and force him to resign," Paul added thoughtfully. "I like it."

"No more crying, Jenny. We'll take care of everything," Patrick whispered, sitting down next to her and Stephanie. Jen had stopped crying when Mo had brought up his plan. She smiled faintly at Patrick and hugged him lightly.

"I know just when to start," she murmured into his shoulder. "We strike… the night of Homecoming." Everyone gaped at her.

"How do you know that Hoffman and his wife go away on Homecoming weekend?!" Paul asked blankly. Jen sat up and grinned evilly.

"Hey, I'm on the drumline now!"

They all laughed quietly.

**

* * *

**

A/N: Sorry it's been a while!

Sorry** it's so long! The next chapter will be shorter.**


	8. Homecoming Dreams, Halloween Screams

**A/N:** Wow, sorry it's been a while! I haven't forgotten this story though. :)

* * *

Kaylyn could hardly remember why she had agreed to go. She just knew that she had to get out of this SUV – at _all_ costs. Ryan was a terrible driver, as they had all discovered. But he did know the side streets to get them to Hoffman's house. Also, he knew how to drive _fast_. So, there were the six of them, flying along in Paul's SUV, toward certain impending doom. Hopefully they would survive to make it to Homecoming, scheduled to start in two hours.

They carefully pulled against the curb a few houses down from the house. It was already dark, at seven in the evening. Dressed in black, Ryan, Mo, Paul, Patrick, Kaylyn, and Jen slipped out of the SUV. They crept silently into the backyard of Hoffman's house. Mo slid up to the door, pulling a bobby pin from his pocket, courtesy of Kaylyn. He slid it into the lock, and expertly clicked it open. They wordlessly filed in, careful not to touch anything. Patrick led the way through the kitchen, family room, and up the stairs to the office. He had looked up the blueprints online.

The office was open, no lock on the door. They all charged in; Paul stalked to the window and closed the curtains tightly. Jen flipped on a flashlight, and began to inspect the room. There were towering bookcases filled with music. There were multiple tape and CD racks, sporting recordings of bands from nearly every year he had been at Southview. The six of them focused their eyes greedily on them. Paul found the CD player and the tape player, and they started listening.

It was Kaylyn who had the ingenious idea of running back to the vehicle to get the blank tapes they had brought. They slid them in, hit record, then hit play on the CD side and copied the information. They were playing tapes on personal CD and tape players as well. It took an hour and a half, and they still weren't anywhere close to being done. Patrick groaned. "Why don't we just bug the theater ourselves and save our ears?" He muttered. Mo's face lit up.

"_That _is a good idea!" he exclaimed. Patrick grinned hugely.

"I'll get right on it!" Patrick was apparently into computer stuff. Jen would have thought that they would choose Greg for all his work in the theater with lights and sound. But Patrick was nearly foaming at the mouth as they snuck carefully out of the house. They jumped into the SUV, Ryan once again driving.

Paul, Mo, and Patrick all began to strip their black clothing. Kaylyn and Jen screeched.

"Do you _have_ to do that in the car?!" Kaylyn wailed. Mo grinned evilly.

"Yes." She and Jen turned away.

"You two should probably get changed too, you know," Paul threw in. Kaylyn gaped at him.

"NO! I am NOT changing in a car full of guys!"

Paul roared with laughter as he shrugged into his nice white shirt. "Well then change in the trunk!" Jen glared at him. The others took no notice. "TIME CHECK CLAIRE!" he yelled suddenly. Ryan groaned. They were scheduled to be at the dance in ten minutes. It took twenty to get back from Hoffman's house.

"Just drive!" Mo yelled. "Floor it!"

Jen groaned, then grabbed her dress and crawled into the trunk. She scrambled into it, pulling it on over her black clothes. She shrugged her shirt out from under the dress, and crawled back over the seat, still wearing her black pants. Kaylyn bit her lip then jumped into the trunk.

The SUV skidded into the parking lot at 6:59. The doors flew open, and five people piled out – Mo, Paul, and Patrick out one side, Jen and Kaylyn out the other. Ryan took his time exiting the driver's seat. They all looked miraculously neat and tidy for changing in a cramped car that was pushing the speed limit to the max.

Ryan straightened his tie. They all exchanged high fives, and Jen and Kaylyn ran off to find Allie, Katie, Maddy, and Tia. The remaining four took their time walking to the doors.

* * *

"Hey…Jen…are you…having fun?" Patrick asked. She laughed.

"This is great! How about you?"

He shrugged. "It… is fun. I just wanted to give you this before we left." He pulled out a bright red rose. Jen stared. She gently reached out and took it from his hands.

"Thank you, Patrick. It's beautiful…"

"I have to go. I'll see you Jenny. Remember that Halloween is this week." He was gone. Jen stood there, clutching the flower, unsure what to do next. As the last song came to an end, her friends dragged her off; she was still stuck staring after him.

* * *

Jen's alarm clock sounded at 6:00 sharp Halloween morning. She groggily turned it off and rolled over. The drumline had been at school until midnight the night before setting up. Patrick had been busy bugging Hoffman's cart, and he had done an exceptional job. The microphone could be turned on and off with the click of a remote. It was a digital recording device, so it saved onto a memory card. Also, Patrick could access it from his computer and manage the files from there. As for the school itself… well, they'd have to see how that would turn out.

Kaylyn, having left with Jen, was figuring that the school was pretty impressive. However, when she actually walked through the doors, she was nearly knocked off of her feet.

Fog swirled around her. She took a cautious step and heard something crunch under her feet: dead leaves. She wafted the fog away, and saw that the entire school floor was covered in a thick layer of leaves. She drifted over to the wall and saw "blood" streaks glistening in the foggy light. They definitely looked realistic. People were shrieking as they discovered the blood. As Kaylyn walked toward her locker, she noticed janitors bustling around, trying to clean. She stepped on something squishy.

"Oh…"

She had stepped on a "body." Turning up her nose, she continued to her locker. The pit in the commons was entirely filled with leaves. Tombstones stuck up haphazardly. A huge, realistic-looking, hairy spider was covering one of the skylights in the commons.

Jen was laughing so hard at her locker that she couldn't stand up straight. She leaned against the lockers for support. "How do they _do _it?!" she asked. Kaylyn shrugged. Poodles grinned as he walked over.

"We're amazing like that. Uh, I mean, _someone's_ amazing like that." He winked at Jen. She scrunched up her face in mock anger. "What are you dressing up as for the Fall Festival Parade?"

"Um, well, I think I'm an escaped convict."

"You think?" he laughed.

"Yeah, unless I can find something else. What are you going as?"

"A mustard bottle!"

"How are you going to march with a bass drum in a mustard bottle costume?!" Jen exclaimed.

"Hey, I'm on the drumline. I'll find a way. See ya!" he walked off to class as the bell rang. Bri ran up, shaking with excitement.

"JEN!" she yelled, even though they were standing right next to each other. "You never called me to ask how Northview's homecoming was!" She was smiling very brightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry! BRI! How was homecoming with _Matt_?"

"It was _great_!" she squealed as they walked to their classes.

"Did he kiss you?" Jen asked in a straightforward tone. Bri tripped over her own feet.

"What? NO!" she cried. Jen giggled. "I mean… it would have been nice, but no."

"See you at lunch," Jen laughed.

* * *

The Fall Festival parade turned out to be absolute insanity. There were baton twirlers, a private drumline - that was pretty awesome, and – oh yeah – Northview's band. Poodles did come as a mustard bottle. Mitch was a cow. The hill they were waiting on was occasionally littered with a cry of "Milk me!" John came in a toga. Paul had rigged a kissing booth sign above his snare drum. Patrick was a beer-bellied soccer referee. Kaylyn was whirling around in a cute fifties dress. Bri had come as Hannah Montana, and Katie was marching around in a giant Daisy Duck costume. Mike was Jack Sparrow, Aaron was an Air Force pilot; Allie came in a bath robe, fuzzy pink slippers, and a white facial. Shane was a cowgirl, and Jen laughed to herself as Shane eyed Paul's kissing booth.

"Hi Jen!" Andy walked by with his friend Bridget, the first clarinet in symphonic band. She smiled and waved back. Andy was dressed as a pimp daddy, and Bridget a Hogwarts student. "We're carrying the banner!"

"Have fun!"

As the band lined up and fell into parade rest, the beginnings of the parade were filtering by. Northview joined first. Then the cadences started. Kaylyn was nervous and almost miscounted on "Latin." The first, easiest cadence! Crap. Andrew glared viciously at her. She thought she heard Paul sigh, as well. She knew what they were thinking: Stupid freshman.

Greg got a little off on "Soupin' it Up," but other than that the parade was uneventful and long.

Back at the school, the entire band was stripping their uniforms happily. Jen and Maddy were searching the band room for Maddy's hanger. Aaron handed it to them after they had been looking for 10 minutes. Jen unzipped her jacket and slipped out of it. She inhaled deeply. She loved the scent of marching uniforms. She clambered over percussion equipment, people, uniforms, other instruments and chairs to the closets in the back. She hung up her uniform in its place and put her hat on its shelf. As Jen turned to leave, Ben slipped a note into her hand and kept walking, acting as though he had not seen her at all. Jen frowned and stuck it into her pocket.

Mike gave her and Katie a ride home. Actually, his mom gave them a ride home. It was a fun ride. They turned up the radio, opened the sunroof, and sang obnoxiously. Jen could hardly keep from laughing. The wind whipped through her hair, and her friends were having a good time slamming into everything in the car as they rocked back and forth. Jen joined them, wondering if they could tip the vehicle over this way.

"Bye guys! Love you!" she yelled from her front porch.

"WE LOVE YOU TOO JEN!" they screamed from the car, then stuck themselves out of the sunroof and waved goodbye crazily. Jen laughed. She could hear Mike's mom yelling at them to sit back down. She ran inside and up to her room. Closing the door carefully, she pulled out the note.

_Hey, Jen, Paul writing, along with Jeff and John. We've finished listening to the tapes and CD's we collected. There is substantial evidence that someone (wink) doesn't want authorities to know about. Most are just accidental recordings. Patrick's started collecting bugs, and so far is successful. Meet in the usual place at the usual time next Thursday._


	9. Raking Leaves

**A/N:** I'm soooooooo sorry it's been forever. Hopefully people still care. And, in case you're wondering, a preacher's kid, with the help of the tubas, actually did forcibly "baptize" one of our drummers the year before I was a freshman.

* * *

November was here. Thanksgiving break was being dreamed about by everyone. Hoffman got more vicious every day. The drumline however was hard at work…

Raking leaves.

The annual "drumline leaf rake" was being conducted at Dillon's house. They chose a different house each year, and they were always thorough. Raking leaves was the best time of the year. Why?

"PULL ME NEXT!" Mitch screamed, throwing leaves in the general direction of the tarp. Paul, Mo, Patrick, and Provo were dragging Jeff across the front yard on the tarp, being sure to jostle him around good, while trying to keep all the leaves in. Ben and Poodles were screaming "Across the Field" obnoxiously while raking leaves into the street. Jen and Kaylyn were busy raking the backyard, out of sight of any neighbors wondering what all the noise was. They weren't eager to be seen with the drumline today.

The seniors dumped Jeff and the leaves in the street, then picked up the tarp and sprinted to the backyard. They loaded the piles of leaves Jen and Kaylyn had been raking, and Mitch jumped on as they began to pull. "How did we get caught up with these idiots again?" Jen muttered as she watched Mitch fly into the street with the leaves. Kaylyn laughed.

"_I_ have a good reason. You're the one who _wanted_ to 'get caught up' with them."

Ryan and John walked up. "You missed a leaf," Ryan informed Kaylyn, who glared at him.

"I'm sure you're capable of picking up a leaf. You carry quads around for an hour and a half each day," she replied coolly. John snorted as Ryan stared at Kaylyn. She stared back, daring him to say something. He wheeled around and marched through the back door into Dillon's house.

"I wish other people had the sense to rake back here too," Jen moaned. "It's where all the leaves are." Kaylyn snorted.

"Especially since some boys are in the house... probably drinking hot chocolate and playing Halo."

A loud roar floated across the lawn as Dillon raced into the backyard, followed by the seniors. "RAKE FASTER! WE NEED LEAVES!" he yelled, running and jumping around. The girls stared.

"Why?"

"My neighbor who always parks in front of my house just drove away," he replied, now jumping around on the leaf pile they had created. "We need to dump a bunch of leaves where she parks." The girls shrugged and shoved their leaves onto the tarp. "WE NEED MOOOOOORE!" Dillon roared, and began to run around the yard.

"Oh my gosh. How weird can you get?" Jen groaned. Kaylyn was laughing. Dillon had grabbed a rake and the seniors followed. Within 25 minutes, the yard was leafless, and the tarp was overflowing. They all dragged it to the street, directed by Dillon, who showed them where to dump it.

"WOOO!" he screamed, and ran inside. The remaining people stared after him.

"Well," Paul broke the silence. "What about that?"

Everyone snickered. "I think I'm ready for some hot chocolate," Mo yawned, stretching. They trudged into the house, where giant steaming mugs greeted them. Greg jumped up, grinning.

"I've got blisters!" he exclaimed, and held out his hands.

"From raking leaves?" Jen asked. He nodded. Provo gave an unfriendly laugh. Jen, Kaylyn, and Greg glared at him, and he hastily took a drink of hot chocolate. "I've been planning a Christmas party," Jen informed them. Rothschild walked into the room at that moment.

"I can't go, I'm Jewish," he told her. Everyone who wasn't a freshman burst out laughing.

"I thought Tim Craig forcibly baptised you at band camp last year, Andrew," Mo replied. "We all witnessed it, too. Well, the freshmen didn't, obviously. But since Tim is a preacher's kid, we told him to go for it. Surely you remember the tubas dunking you in the lake on the field," he laughed. Now everyone cracked up. Rothschild frowned.

"Fine. I'll go. But only if you have Christmas cookies," he snapped. Jen laughed harder.

"What's a Christmas party without cookies? Of course I'll have some!"

After more laughter, Paul waved his hands. "So, was the leaf rake a success this year?"

An emphatic "Yes!" from everyone answered his question.


	10. From Golf Clubs to Giftgiving

**A/N: **It's Christmas in... September? Just roll with it. :] I don't own Ralph Hardimon or Vic Firth.

* * *

Snowflakes drifted gracefully toward the ground, leaving their dark puffy clouds behind. The sun had set hours ago, and the world seemed to be trapped in a large, beautiful snowglobe. The grass was just beginning to become dusty white, and Greg watched it all from his window. Tomorrow was the last day of school before winter break, and he had tests in six of his eight classes. He was pretty sure that he would fail geometry, Spanish, and biology. English, American history, and astronomy were going to be the easiest. Theater tech and band were his "free" periods. The books were piled high on his bed, and he had strewn worksheets everywhere. But at the moment, something much more serious than test worries was happening outside.

A strange car had pulled up across the street around seven, and no one had entered or exited it. It was now nine thirty. He had called Paul at eight. He mashed his nose against the window, his glasses digging into his face. In his hands, he clutched a pair of kiddie binochulars that belonged to his younger sister, Cate. The car was completely black inside. Paul had told him to stay put and check on it periodically. His phone vibrated suddenly. Greg jumped, banging his head on the window. He swore and opened up his phone.

_"Is the car still there? - Paul"_

_"Yes"_

He hit send. His eyes flashed to the window. Nothing had changed. Greg gulped loudly. He needed to do something... he just didn't know what. His phone vibrated again.

_"I'll b there in 5"_

Now Paul was coming. Greg knew he was on drumline for a reason. He loved to play. But he also knew that he had a duty. He stood up, opened his bedroom door, and slipped into the hall. Cate was asleep, and his parents were watching television in the family room. He carefully treaded down the stairs, through the foyer, and turned down the hallway that led to the garage. His parents noticed nothing as he opened the door and crept into his garage. He flicked on the light, and made his way to the snow shovels. No, he couldn't swing one fast enough. He turned and walked to the back. His golf bag sat innocently next to the lawnmower. He grinned and grabbed the nine iron. He snatched the salt container on his way to the back door, and silently snuck outside.

He hugged the house as he approached the front. His heart pounded in his chest. The car inched into his view. He froze. Something moved inside. Despite the cold, his hands were sweating as they gripped the club and the salt. He gently set the salt down and took a deep breath. Greg walked toward the car. Each step seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Just as he reached the driverside door, it swung open. The face of Northview's center leered up at him. Greg brandished the golf club. "Get out of here," he snarled. The other guy stared laughingly at him.

"I have every right to be here," he replied. Greg laughed menacingly.

"Maybe you should read the signs before you park," he snapped, and pointed. The other drummer followed his finger, and Greg grabbed the opportunity to snatch him by the shirt and yank him up out of the car. He was glad he was so tall. "Next time you want to babysit me, just call," he growled. The other kid looked shocked, but he quickly recovered.

"You are planning something," he hissed. "All of you. And we will stop you." He yanked himself out of Greg's grip. They stared each other down.

"The only thing I'm planning is to pass my tests tomorrow," Greg retorted after a few minutes of silence. The enemy grinned.

"I can arrange that... but only if you tell me what you're doing. If not... Maybe you won't be so pleased." Greg's anger boiled over.

"That's it! You have no idea what the Southview drumline is capable of!" he roared, and swung the golf club high into the air.

"GREG!"

Greg dropped the club, and the Northview kid darted into his car. Paul sprinted up to them, and grabbed the guy's arm as he tried to pull the door shut. "You need to leave," he barked, and the rival center started his car, yanked his arm free, closed the door, and tore off. Paul turned to Greg. "What were you thinking?" he yelled. Greg straigtened.

"They know we're planning something," he snapped. Paul blanched. "And he threatened to fail me on all my tests tomorrow."

"Greg, you're an idiot. But at least you know how to work a golf club," Paul muttered. "Get inside. I'll see you tomorrow." He walked to his car and drove off. Greg picked up the club, trudged across the street, grabbed the salt and dumped some on the driveway. As he walked back into the house, his parents caught him.

"Greg, what were you doing out there?"

"Salting the driveway. Didn't you see me go out?"

They shook their heads, and he greatfully went to bed, just realizing how chilly he felt.

* * *

Jen's Christmas party was due to start in twenty minutes. She nervously paced the kitchen, wondering if anyone would show up. The house twinkled with lights from the tree, and garland was strung everywhere possible. A huge plate of cookies rested on the table. The doorbell rang. Jen tore over. Bri, Shane, Allie, and Katie stood on her porch, grinning. "We heard there was a party," Bri giggled. They filed in together.

"Where are the drummers?" Shane asked, looking around.

"Oh, they're coming... hopefully," Jen muttered. Katie laughed.

"Why wouldn't they come? Food and girls are here!" she reasured them. The doorbell rang again, and this time Jen let in Mike and Aaron. To her surprise, Matt came to the door a few minutes later.

"I hope you don't mind, Jen. Bri asked if I wanted to come..." he explained in his deep voice.

"I figured," she grinned. "Come on in."

The drumline arrived right on time. Paul seemed a little upset that someone from Northview was there too, but he calmed down once he realized that Matt was not in band.

"Where's the eggnog?" Andrew roared. Dillon and Ryan began yelling as well. Jen rolled her eyes.

"No drinking at my party!" she yelled back, shrieking as Alex and Patrick nailed her with two reindeer pillows.

"Come on!" Ryan whined. "It'll give a whole new meaning to 'Merry Christmas!'"

"Go eat cookies," Jen grunted, whacking the boys with a large, overstuffed santa dog. At the mention of cookies, everyone stopped what they were doing and charged the kitchen. "That was easy," Jen mumbled, brushing fake dog hair off her shirt.

Everyone stayed late, laughing, eating, and playing the drumline version of "Never have I Ever," which turned out to be so perverted that several people asked to wash out their ears afterward. To finish the night off, a spectacular snowball fight occured throughout the neighborhood, leaving several lawns much greener than before.

"Bye Jen! Thanks!" people yelled before leaving. Jen waved. Paul shook her hand and gave her a card.

"Read it sometime. I think you'll like it," he grinned, and winked. Patrick also handed her a package, and he hugged her lightly before driving off.

"Have a great break, Jenny!" he called as he trotted down the street.

She ran upstairs after Bri and Shane reluctantly left and sat on her bed. She ripped open Paul's card.

_Hey Jen! Merry Christmas. You're a real gamer. When you found us out, I knew you would be trouble. I'm glad to say that you are shaping up to be a real member of the drumline! That said, there is still something missing. So, for your Christmas gift, Patrick and I teamed up to get you something awesome. I'm sure you can guess his half after you're done with this card. I am giving you drum lessons, from January until June, twice a week. I know you'll benefit from them, even in playing the flute! Plus, you can really be an official drummer now. I'll see you in a few weeks! - Paul_

Jen gaped at the card. She could barely believe it! Grinning wildly, she opened Patrick's package. Drumsticks! A note fell onto the bed.

_Merry Christmas, Jen. These are your new sticks! They are Vic Firth Ralph Hardimon sticks, the snare line's favorite type. Of course, you probably have no clue what I just said. But these are good sticks, and they make a nice sound. I'll see you in January! Your friend Patrick_

Jen spent the next five minutes shrieking while jumping up and down on her bed. She stopped after remembering that Mitch broke his arm when he fell off a bed while jumping on it a few years earlier. She then ran around the house for the rest of the night drumming on things.

"The new year will ROCK!"


	11. Secret Tunnels, Percussion Struggles

**A/N: Secrets! Drama! Hate! They're all present in this chapter! Hopefully I can get this story moving again.**

* * *

Freezing air swirled around Patrick as he walked through the tunnel. He was currently under the school. There was a tunnel that started in the percussion storage closet in the band room. It was linked to the theater, under the stage, and it ran around the school, popping up in a few strategic locations. It made getting to class a snap. There was just one problem with the tunnel - it was underground, totally separate from the heating system of the school, and it happened to be January.

He reached a wall with a ladder built into it. He skillfully climbed, and shoved open the trap door. Percussion closet. Disaster. Drummers didn't organize. He slowly opened the door.

"Hi Patrick!"

Jen was sitting on a tall directors' chair. "What are you going to show me?"

"Get off the chair," he hissed. "I'm showing you another drumline secret." Jen trotted over.

"In the closet?"

"Yes. Actually, it's below the closet." He yanked her inside and shut the door. It was pitch black. "See that hole?" he whispered as her eyes adjusted to the dark. She nodded. "Follow me down - there's a ladder."

Jen shakily found the rungs of the ladder, and she carefully lowered herself down into the tunnel. "Are there lights, Patrick?" she whispered.

"Oh," he replied, and clapped twice. The tunnel burst into light, and Jen shrieked.

"IT'S A CLAPPER!" she yelled, and began to laugh loudly. Patrick grinned as her giggles echoed down the corridor.

"Okay, let's laugh later, we only have twenty minutes," he cut her off. She snorted, but successfully stopped. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all rough, and apparently concrete. There were bare light bulbs strung along the ceiling at six foot intervals. The tunnel itself was about 7 feet tall and five feet wide.

"This could use a redecoration," Jen muttered, glancing around. Patrick snorted.

"The tunnel gets you places. That's it. It's not supposed to be pretty. Follow me."

They walked in silence for a few moments. A few branches of the tunnel shot off to the left and right, but Patrick walked straight. They stopped at a door. "This gets you under the stage."

"Is there a map anywhere?" Jen asked, looking concerned. Patrick jumped.

"Shoot! Yeah, I'll get it to you when we finish. That might be helpful, right? Okay, now we're going right. He led her a few yards to the right where a ladder led up to another trap door. "Always listen before you open a trap door. This one leads to the catwalk stairway in the theater. If you open it, there is a spiral staircase going up to the catwalk. There is also a door that leads to the house of the theater." He led her away. "When I give you the map, I can show you more, but for now, stick to these two doors. I don't want you to get lost down here." They had reached the ladder. "Ladies first," he smiled. Jen grinned back at him and climbed up.

Back in the band room, Patrick sighed. "Are you ready for your first drum lesson tonight?"

"No. I have no idea what to expect," Jen confessed. He grinned.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone is horrible at the beginning. You already know how to read music, so Paul will probably go right into technique... Oh, one more thing. Hoffman will probably be a huge jerk for the next few weeks."

"Why?"

"Cincinnati is coming, Jen. In February."

"What?! We're going to Cincinnati?" she yelped.

"... Yeah, we have been since like last April. How could you have forgotten?" Patrick asked, staring at her like she was crazy.

"I don't know... but I should go to my locker," Jen muttered. "See ya." He watched her leave silently.

_Sometimes I can't understand..._ he thought.

* * *

Patrick was right. Hoffman screamed and yelled. He insulted them. He even swore... while his CD recording was still running.

"I don't know what the _hell_ you people are doing!" he roared after a not-so-good recording of "On a Scenic Drive."

"Want to get your hands on that tape?" Andrew muttered to Goofy at the end of rehearsal, who shook his head and nodded toward Patrick. "Kaylyn, clean this shit up," he snapped unexpectedly. Kaylyn shot him a look of pure loathing before scooping all of the sheet music into one arm, and trap table instruments into the other.

"I can't wait until I'm not a freshman and can disobey you without consequence," she snarled. Andrew had been aggravating her more than usual lately. The two stared nastily at each other until Ryan "accidentally" knocked Andrew off balance with the bass drum. Kaylyn wheeled around. Unfortunately, Mo was picking up the snare drum at the same time, and he whacked her in the face with it.

"Oh!" she yelped, and dropped everything.

"KAYLYN!" Andrew roared.

"Shut up!" she screamed, clutching her left eye.

"Sorry," Mo muttered, and walked off.

"Don't tell me to shut up! You just dropped all of the parts of all the songs! You probably broke some maraca or something! It will take a whole period to organize all of this!" Andrew yelled, marching over.

"Gee, it's my fault, now, is it? Maybe you should try being nicer so I wouldn't have stare at you, only to turn away and get hit in the face with a drum!"

"Andrew! Freshman girl drummer! PERCUSSION!" Hoffman yelled.

"Kaylyn dropped all the music and trap table instruments and is blaming me for it!" Andrew yelled back.

"Mo hit me in the face with the snare drum! What was I supposed to do?" Kaylyn whimpered, taking her hand away from her eye. "And he's the one who told me to clean it all up," she snapped, pointing at Andrew and squinting her reddening eye. Andrew threw his hands up in the air angrily.

"I want these pieces back in the correct folder and in score order by the beginning of tomorrow," Hoffman roared. "And if anything is broken, you're both paying for it. Go to the office and get some ice for that eye," he finished, gritting his teeth.

"Kaylyn, pick it up," Andrew ordered.

"I'm going to get ice. _You_ pick it up." She marched off.

"_Greg! _Get over here!" Andrew yelled. Greg lumbered over, glaring. He wasn't fond of Andrew either, since Rothschild usual put him down in front of everyone. "Clean this up. I want it in the right folder, in score order." Rothschild walked away, and Greg stared after him, mouth open.

"Want some help?" Greg looked over to Jen and nodded. She knelt down to begin sorting. "Rough day in the percussion section, huh?"

"He's such a prick."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't like him either. Anyway, have I told you how adorable you and Tia are together? Honestly, you guys are the cutest couple ever."

Greg smiled. "Yea. But thanks."

Jen grinned. "Just thought I would take your mind off things. Don't worry about Andrew. Someday, someone will shove his fat head right up his butt. And then who will worry about him putting us down?"

Greg laughed. Kaylyn plodded into the theater, and sat down next to them, holding a pack of "crack-and-shake instant ice" over her eye. "I'll help. It's my fault."

"No. Don't think that way. Sure, you were a contributing factor. But if it weren't for Andrew, this would not have happened. Look, we already have 'The Chimes of Liberty' sorted."

"Thank you," she sighed, and stuffed the song into its folder.

"Don't worry about Andrew, Kaylyn. Someday, someone will shove his fat head right up his butt," Greg recited proudly. He and Jen burst out laughing while Kaylyn stared on.


End file.
